<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The Mysterious Illness by ComingOfTheLord1985</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24333727">The Mysterious Illness</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComingOfTheLord1985/pseuds/ComingOfTheLord1985'>ComingOfTheLord1985</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Led Zeppelin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adorable, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Attempt at Humor, Cheesy, Childbirth, Crack Treated Seriously, Cute, Cute Ending, Cutesy, Domestic, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Family, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Makeup Sex, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, Morning Sickness, Mpreg, Non-Explicit Sex, Non-Graphic Smut, Out of Character, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex, Some Humor, Swearing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Twins, Unplanned Pregnancy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:33:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,909</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24333727</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComingOfTheLord1985/pseuds/ComingOfTheLord1985</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A mysterious malady/sickness/illness/ailment has struck down everybody's favourite blonde bombshell/mop-top. But what to do?!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jimmy Page/Robert Plant</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Out of all of the fics over on LiveJournal's two Led Zeppelin slash communities, I liked this one the most (despite its elements of cheesiness) so I decided to re-post it over here. It has been a long time, so I most likely cannot contact the [original] author, on top of the fact that their LJ account has long since been deleted and purged. But if you're out there, and don't want this up, then let me know! But since this story is already finished {or complete}, so updates should come regularly. The ratings may vary by chapter.</p><p>Here's the link to this chapter/installment:<br/>https://zeppelin-slash.livejournal.com/169650.html</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>-Title: The Mysterious Illness (1/6)</p><p>-Author: Ignatius_Sparke (Jimmy… Me. My little brother's name for me.)</p><p>-Rating: Er, PG-13/R for cursing. Bad boys.</p><p>-Disclaimer: If I owned Led Zep, I'd make this shit happen for REAL, not just in my head!</p><p>-Warnings: A very sickly, weak Robert, language... the usual.</p><p>-Summary: A mysterious ailment has struck down everybody's favourite blonde bombshell and mop-top. But what to do?!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"<em>Don't</em> - come - in!"</p><p>"You okay in there?" Jimmy asked worriedly. Robert had been locked in the toilet for ten minutes and it sounded like he was having a rough time. He heard the latch click, the door opened by a shaking hand, and Robert stood in front of him, green-faced and looking decidedly unsteady on his feet.</p><p>"Bloody hell!"</p><p>"I'm fine," Robert protested weakly, trying to nod but stopping when it caused him to stagger. "Everything is fi-" He suddenly headed towards the floor at an alarming rate, and it was only thanks to Jimmy's quick reflexes that he was caught before his head could make intimate contact with the hard granite tiles of the hotel bathroom. The singer lolled in his arms, clearly unconscious, having passed out straight for whatever reason. Jimmy cursed and stood up, stumbling as he staggered a little under the dead weight of the blonde. He carried Rob into their bedroom and settled him on the bed, casting a worried glance over the entirety of the lax, floppy form.</p><p>
  <em>Just what the hell WAS wrong?</em>
</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <strong>*******</strong> </span>
</p><p>"Crikey," John Bonham winced on the other end of the phone. "He fainted? Really?"</p><p>"<em> Really, </em> really," Jimmy answered, tiredly running a hand through his wild, raven curls. "And that's after puking his guts out. Fuck, it was like a World War 3/III sick bay in there!"</p><p>"Okay, now <em> there's </em> a nice mental image," Bonzo chastised lightly, trying not to gag. "Want me to come over and help out?"</p><p>"Nah, it's okay mate; I can handle him... oh, <em> shit </em>. Er - callyoubackrightokaybye!" Jimmy replied hurriedly before hanging up the phone on the drummer.</p><p>Jimmy raced over to the bed, catching Robert firmly in his arms and pushing him back down against the mattress.</p><p>"Oh, no you don't, Mister," he growled playfully, ignoring the roll of the singer's eyes he got in return. "Remember what happened last time you stood up too fast?" Hell, he certainly could <em> not </em> forget <em> that </em>...</p><p>"No," Robert retorted belligerently, glaring at him.</p><p>"You just collapsed, mate; it was fucking scary. You're lucky I caught you… it would'a given you a hell of a wallop, that floor. Now are you gonna be a good little boy and have a lie down, or will I have to go ahead and get Bonzo to come right over and sodding sit on you?!"</p><p>"I'd be <em>crushed</em>!" Robert protested with wide eyes, desperately hoping that Jimmy wouldn't <em> really </em> get the strapping, big-boned drummer to come and actually <em> sit </em> on him! After all, Robert was a half-pint in comparison. He struggled nevertheless against Jimmy's hold, wanting to sit up slightly in the hope that it would settle his still-yet-queasy stomach.</p><p>"Right. So lie down <em>now</em>, young man, before I make good on my threat!" Jimmy insisted.</p><p>Jimmy almost ruined the whole authoritative father thing he had going on by giggling. He laid down beside Robert and pulled the singer into his body, cradling the blonde in a comforting embrace against his chest, one arm around his back and his other hand resting on his cheek. Robert gave up struggling and snuggled closer, pressing his face into Jimmy's shoulder and laying his own hand possessively over the guitarist's chest. Jimmy smiled and kissed the crown of the singer's beautiful, golden blonde head.</p><p>"Now, that's a right good boy," Jimmy cooed soothingly.</p><p>"Sod off," came the mumbled reply in jest just before Robert's heavy breathing evened out into sleep. Jimmy stayed there, holding him tight, dozing off himself. And when John-Paul Jones came in to check on them later on, he found them peacefully asleep together, Robert lying on Jimmy's chest, both of their pretty brunette and blonde curls mixed together on the pillows.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>-Title: The Mysterious Illness (2/6)</p><p>-Author: Ignatius_Sparke (Jimmy… Me. My little brother's name for me.)</p><p>-Rating: PG-13/R for cursing. Naughty boys.</p><p>-Disclaimer: If I owned Led Zep, I'd make this shit happen for REAL, not just in my head!</p><p>-Warnings: A very sickly, weak Robert, language... the usual.</p><p>-Summary: A mysterious ailment has struck down everybody's favourite blonde bombshell and mop-top. But what to do?!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Out of all of the fics over on LiveJournal's two Led Zeppelin slash communities, I liked this one the most (despite its elements of cheesiness) so I decided to re-post it over here. It has been a long time, so I most likely cannot contact the [original] author, on top of the fact that their LJ account has long since been deleted and purged. But if you're out there, and don't want this up, then let me know! But since this story is already finished {or complete}, so updates should come regularly. The ratings may vary by chapter.</p><p>Here's the link to this chapter/installment:<br/>https://zeppelin-slash.livejournal.com/169752.html</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bonzo battered away at the drums, just getting warmed up, but already breaking his sticks in half (seriously, one of them was only held together by his fist wrapped around it tightly) on the skins. Robert was strutting around the studio as usual, belting out the lyrics to <em><b>Whole Lotta Love</b></em> as his own warm up, admittedly still a wee bit pale. Jimmy kept casting a concerned, loving eye in his direction, making sure the singer was okay as he and Jonesy tuned their guitars. Robert was larger than life, even if a little shaky, and Jimmy turned his attention back to the guitar, occasionally plucking a string and then fiddling with a peg. Jonesy commented whenever things didn't "sound quite right" until he achieved the right pitch. A crash made Jimmy jump and the bottom fell out of his stomach as he immediately whirled round in panic, begging desperately. <em> Oh, God... PLEASE don't let him have collapsed again, </em> he thought.</p><p>To find Robert doubled over and roaring with laughter, as Bonzo lay dazed on the floor having fallen off the drum stool on one particularly energetic, ambitious trick. Jimmy sighed in relief with a roll of his eyes and a smile shared between himself and John-Paul as they pulled Bonzo up, Robert still giggling in the background.</p><p>"Try and stay on the fucking stool this time, you daft twat," Jimmy grinned, Bonzo shooting him a death stare, mock-saluting as he retrieved his sticks and started pounding the bass pedal. Jonesy joined in with a dexterous flick of his long fingers, and together <b>Led Zeppelin</b> began recording <em> <b>The Lemon Song</b> </em> .</p><p>That was, at least, until Robert clamped a hand over his mouth and ran for his life to the outside of the recording studio.</p><p>John-Paul dropped his bass -- which was caught deftly by Jimmy, who was still rendered too startled to do anything -- and rushed out there after him, finding him outside leaning against the wall and gagging, the heaving wracking his toned body until John-Paul was convinced he'd see Robert's stomach actually leave out of his body through his mouth. A panicked, dark-haired head appeared and Jimmy sped over, practically shoving Jonesy away as he gathered the singer into his arms. Robert was crying softly, pressing his face into the crook of Jimmy's shoulder as the guitarist's hand smoothed comfortingly over his blonde curls, holding him tightly and shushing him like a father would with his own small child in distress.</p><p>Jonesy pushed the wheat-gold locks back, looking worriedly into Robert's pale, green face.</p><p>"You alright, Perce?"</p><p>Robert just whimpered and held onto Jimmy, snuggling in still closer and the guitarist shared a worried look with Jonesy, still running his hand through soft blonde curls.</p><p>"Hey, sshhh, ssshhhh… it's okay, Robert... I'm here... Jonesy's here... Bonzo isn't..."</p><p>Now, that got a shaky little smile; Bonzo wasn't exactly renowned for his sensitivity around issues like this. Jonesy shot Robert a grin and Jimmy chuckled, pressing a light kiss to the golden crown of Robert's gorgeous head. He held him away at arms' length, inspecting his tear-streaked face closely.</p><p>"Are you alright, Percy?" Jimmy asked, softly, echoing Jonesy's previous inquiry, "Are you able to stand up on your own?"</p><p>Robert nodded slowly, and Jimmy cautiously let go.</p><p><em> Big </em> mistake.</p><p>"Whoah, <em> whoah </em> ! Easy..." Jonesy implored, allowing Robert to fall into his arms before picking him up gracefully and cradling him against his chest. Jimmy leant over, stroking flaxen ringlets from Robert's clammy forehead daintily. Robert's sky-blue eyes were unfocused and dull as he gazed at Jimmy pitifully. The brunette was almost angry; what in the actual <em> hell </em> was going <em> on </em> ?!</p><p>"Percy?"</p><p>"Mmmmrrrrhhhh..." Robert moaned and groaned miserably.</p><p>Jimmy scowled. "Robert Anthony Plant, what the fuck <em> happened </em> here?!"</p><p>Bonzo sniggered, his moustachioed-and-bearded face appearing over Jonesy's irritated shoulder. "You sound like you're his dad!"</p><p>The smirk faltered and an apology was swiftly made when Jimmy levelled him with one of his deluxe Shut-The-Fuck-Up-Right-Now-You-Fucking-Cunt glares.</p><p>"I dunno... I just felt woozy and then <em> bleurf </em> !" Robert mumbled pathetically, his accompanying hand gestures uncoordinated and weak.</p><p>Jimmy growled. "Have you eaten <em> anything </em> whatsoever today, Percy?"</p><p>Gulp. Robert attempted to shrug with an unconvincing "...Yeah?"</p><p>Jonesy tutted, raising his eyebrow, poking him lightly. "Liar."</p><p>Robert scowled.</p><p>"Good <em> heavens </em> , Percy!" Jimmy exploded. "You'll do yourself a lot <em> real </em> bloody damage if you don't eat! I am <em> not </em> having you flipping collapsing everywhere, you got it?!"</p><p>The vocalist grumbled. "Wasn't my fault! I felt ill-"</p><p>"Then all the more reason you eat! Give you summat to actually puke up!"</p><p>Jonesy agreed with a slight nod, shifting Robert in his arms gently. Robert tried to protest, but at the firm look on Jimmy's face, he quieted down to disgruntled mumbling and grumbling under his breath. That made Bonzo and Jonesy laugh and the deep vibrations rumbled through the bassist's chest, making Robert squirm. Jimmy carefully took him from Jonesy and slung him fireman-style over his shoulder, Robert wincing with a shriek as his chest was grated over Jimmy's thin, skinny, bony frame. Jimmy apologised gently, carrying Robert virtually kicking and screaming back into the studio to lay him on the couch to recover, leaving Jonesy and Bonzo outside.</p><p>Robert gazed at him balefully, occasionally whimpering as his stomach continued to roil and heave, trying to hold the nausea at bay. Jimmy took one look at him and helped him back outside, holding the blonde curls back from his face as the singer tried to throw up whatever was bugging him.</p><p>"We oughta get you to a quack<b>*</b> , Perce," Jimmy said once the gagging had seemingly simmered down, even if just for a little while. "This can't be good."</p><p>"Well, it's only been goin' on since you last shagged me a couple of weeks ago," Robert complained. "You had a bug or something?"</p><p>"Are you accusing me of giving you the clap or something?" Jimmy quipped, sounding hurt.</p><p>"No, you-" more retching "-you d-daft s-sod. Just maybe when you k-kissed me, or-or whatever, you might have p-passed somethin' on."</p><p>"I dunno. If I'd had anything as nasty as this I would've known about it, don'tcha think?"</p><p>He once again had to wait for the heaving to subside before Robert answered.</p><p>"James, you don't - you don't think that I might b-be...?"</p><p>"You might be what?" Jimmy inquired warningly, afraid of where this conversation was going.</p><p>"Y'know... In the family way?" Robert gesturing a rounded belly as he struggled to sit upright. Jimmy forced him back down and sat in his lap, pushing his chest back down to pin him underneath the guitarist's slim, light body. Robert yelled in protest and shoved Jimmy's hands off his chest, tears springing to his eyes as the guitarist watched in confusion.</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b> <em>*Doctor.</em> </b> </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>-Title: The Mysterious Illness (3/6)</p><p>-Author: Ignatius_Sparke (Jimmy… Me. My little brother's name for me.)</p><p>-Rating: NC-17 for cursing and PWP. Naughty boys.</p><p>-Disclaimer: If I owned Led Zep, I'd make this shit happen for REAL, not just in my head!</p><p>-Warnings: Language... the usual.</p><p>-Summary: A mysterious ailment has struck down everybody's favourite blonde bombshell and mop-top. But what to do?!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Out of all of the fics over on LiveJournal's two Led Zeppelin slash communities, I liked this one the most (despite its elements of cheesiness) so I decided to re-post it over here. It has been a long time, so I most likely cannot contact the [original] author, on top of the fact that their LJ account has long since been deleted and purged. But if you're out there, and don't want this up, then let me know! But since this story is already finished {or complete}, so updates should come regularly. The ratings may vary by chapter.</p><p>Here's the link to this chapter/installment: https://zeppelin-slash.livejournal.com/170421.html</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>*~Last Time~*</b>
  </span><br/>
</p><p>"Jim, you don't - you don't think that I might be...?"<br/>
</p><p>"Might be what?" Jimmy asked dumbfounded.<br/>
</p><p>"Y'know... In a family way?" Robert raised his eyebrows, gesturing a rounded belly as he struggled upright. Jimmy forced him back down and straddled his lap, pushing his chest back down to pin him underneath the guitarist's slight, slim body. Robert grunted and shoved Jimmy's hands off his chest, tears springing to his eyes as the guitarist watched in confusion.<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>"Y-You're joking, right?!" Jimmy asked, his eyes wide. "In the family way? You </span>
  <em>
    <span>must</span>
  </em>
  <span> be joking, you just </span>
  <em>
    <span>gotta</span>
  </em>
  <span> be... you're-you're a </span>
  <em>
    <span>bloke</span>
  </em>
  <span>!"</span><br/>
</p><p>Robert punched him in the face weakly.<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>"I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span>!" Robert yelled back as vehemently as he could. Jimmy grinned, rubbing his nose nervously.</span><br/>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, I guess you </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> be. I mean, fertility's a powerful thing, and I think Aleister Crowley said that it was possible in one of his </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> out-there kind of books."</span><br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Robert groaned and flopped back. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Seriously</span>
  </em>
  <span>? You think that it's possible?"</span><br/>
</p><p>"Yeah... I reckon it is," Jimmy replied uncertainly.<br/>
</p><p>"Oh, no..." Robert lamented, sighing as he buried his face down into his hands.<br/>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>*~Two Months Later~*</b>
  </span><br/>
</p><p>Jimmy walked his fingers delicately over the slight curve of Robert's stomach. He felt the blonde's amusement and looked up, meeting laughing blue eyes and a broad, warm smile. Jimmy smiled back at him, as he stroked his palm over the minute bulge between Robert's hipbones.<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>"When should we tell Peter about you and your, er, </span>
  <em>
    <span>delicate</span>
  </em>
  <span> condition?" Jimmy questioned Robert, looking into his baby blues. As Robert's face clouded over thunderously, Jimmy closed his eyes, regretting his words deeply while he gulped, waiting for the storm to erupt.</span><br/>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't you even </span>
  <em>
    <span>dare</span>
  </em>
  <span> call it that! My </span>
  <em>
    <span>condition</span>
  </em>
  <span>, James, is that </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>knocked me up the duff</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and just because it's </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> kid does </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> mean that you should open your big, fat </span>
  <em>
    <span>gob</span>
  </em>
  <span> and fucking blab to fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>Peter</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you bloody <em>cretin</em>!" </span><br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Jimmy recoiled, stung and hurt. He glowered at Robert and stood up, sorely tempted to punch the singer's sodding lights out. But he might hurt the baby if he did, and as scary as the concept was, Jimmy secretly couldn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>wait</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be a father, and he could tell that Percy was excited too. His emerald-green eyes were brimming, deeply offended by Robert's outburst, but he stormed off to lock himself in the bathroom, the first few tears managing to escape as he yanked open the door.</span><br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Robert felt terrible when he heard Jimmy's angry, hurt sobs from the bathroom, but it wasn't like Jimmy hadn't offended </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> first! He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> bloody </span>
  <em>
    <span>'delicate'</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and being pregnant </span>
  <em>
    <span>certainly</span>
  </em>
  <span> wasn't a fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>condition</span>
  </em>
  <span>, something bad that needed to be cured, like an actual </span>
  <em>
    <span>ailment</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He was absolutely terrified by the whole fucking idea of it -- carrying this baby for the best part of a year, and then giving birth to the dern thing -- for Pete's sake! He was a bloody </span>
  <em>
    <span>bloke</span>
  </em>
  <span>, so how in the </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell</span>
  </em>
  <span> was he gonna to give </span>
  <em>
    <span>birth</span>
  </em>
  <span>, for crying out loud?! There was </span>
  <em>
    <span>nowhere</span>
  </em>
  <span> to-to-to give birth from!</span><br/>
</p><p>He clambered unsteadily to his feet, one hand unconsciously straying to cup the small but firm, rounded mound between his hipbones (his three-month, or first trimester baby bump), just above his belt and he knocked on the bathroom door, hearing the hiccuping sounds as Jimmy attempted to control his sobs, which broke his heart.<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>"Pagey... Jimmy, I'm sorry; I really </span>
  <em>
    <span>am</span>
  </em>
  <span> sorry for hurting your feelings."</span><br/>
</p><p>"D-Don't c-come i-in. I might st-st-still f-f-fucking s-sock you in your bleedin' mug," Jimmy sobbed.<br/>
</p><p>The singer's hormone-induced temper immediately flared up again.<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>"Now, you know right good and well that is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> fair! </span>
  <em>
    <span>You</span>
  </em>
  <span> started it! You started this whole, fucking episode! You just </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn't</span>
  </em>
  <span> keep it in your bloody trousers, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span> look what's happened! I'm knocked up, I ache, I've puked up almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>every</span>
  </em>
  <span> other day for the past three months, and yet you get off Scot-free and having a go at me for being pissed off about the entire thing!" Robert shouted.</span><br/>
</p><p>"I didn't fucking see you pushing me away, you cunt! 'Oh… oh my, Jimmy! Yes… <em>HARDER</em>! Oh, my stars… ah, oh, <em>JIIIMMMMYYYYY</em>!"<br/>
</p><p>Robert flushed bright-red on the other side of the door and kicked the door frame in frustration, bursting into angry tears.<br/>
</p><p>"Fuck <em>off</em>, Jimmy!"<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fine! I fucking will! I don't even </span>
  <em>
    <span>care</span>
  </em>
  <span>! I don't even </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> this kid anyways! Fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>abort</span>
  </em>
  <span> it, for all I care, you selfish, ungrateful, fat-arse slag!"</span><br/>
</p><p>Robert actually collapsed with fury and rage. He was so irate he was shaking, unable to speak as he balled up his fists. Jimmy heard the crash and poked his head around the door, gasping when he saw Robert fixing him with a truly lethal, evil glare when suddenly the blonde shrieked like a harpy and flew at him, pummelling every inch of Jimmy's milky-pale skin that he possibly could. The brunette refused to fight back, which just infuriated Robert even further, so he got even more vicious with his significant other, with him writhing on top of the guitarist as he attacked him.<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>But all of a sudden, at the drop of a hat, Robert had somehow found himself moaning wantonly as he arched his back, with his hands vigorously clutching at the brunette's back with Jimmy's lips attached to his neck. How had </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> happened? One second they were fighting like wildcats; but the next they were grinding up against one another like dogs in heat! It was ridiculous! His eyes rolled back in his head as Jimmy's hips rutted even harder, their cocks grinding against one another through their jeans and he groaned in pleasure, the sounds mirrored by deep growls from the guitarist.</span><br/>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ohhh, ahhh... </span>
  <em>
    <span>Goodnight</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Jimmy - fuck - me - fuckmepleaseJimmyohGodpleasefuckmenow!" Robert wailed, begging desperately, and goodness </span>
  <em>
    <span>gracious</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Jimmy was only human… so how could he have resisted?! He tore Robert's jeans off impatiently, not even </span>
  <em>
    <span>waiting</span>
  </em>
  <span> to stretch out the blonde enough; two spit-slicked fingers was all he reckoned Percy'd need before thrusting in, and Robert screamed like all hell and bucked back, whimpering.</span><br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The pace was hard, fast and brutal, and the two young men were </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> caught up in one another that they didn't hear the knock on the door.</span><br/>
</p><p>"Jimmy?" It was Peter.<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Robert wailed again, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> fucking close but oh... Jimmy! Pagey was </span>
  <em>
    <span>surely</span>
  </em>
  <span> going to be the </span>
  <em>
    <span>death</span>
  </em>
  <span> of him, he was sure of it. Heavy footsteps sounded outside as Peter entered the hotel room, obviously looking for Jimmy. The guitarist barely had time to pull out and shove Robert into the bathroom's shower to hide behind the curtain before their manager burst in.</span><br/>
</p><p>"It smells like sex in here. What've you been up to?" Peter asked with a lewd grin but shrewd, suspicious eyes.<br/>
</p><p>"N-N-Nothing," Jimmy stammered, eyes wide and he really desperately hoped that G wouldn't notice the raging hard-on that his jeans were straining to contain.<br/>
</p><p>"Mmm-hmm..." Peter hummed, not seeming convinced.<br/>
</p><p>"Nothin', G, I <em>swear</em>!"<br/>
</p><p>"Fine. When you're done jerking off, meet me in the lobby. And if you see Robert, tell him too. I can't find the little fucker anywhere."<br/>
</p><p>Jimmy nodded quickly and heaved a sigh of relief when G left. He heard (the) quiet sobs coming from the bathroom and went inside, pulling back the shower curtain in concern.<br/>
</p><p>"Aw, Perce, please don't cry. What's wrong?"<br/>
</p><p>"P-Peter called m-me a little f-fucker..." Robert hiccuped.<br/>
</p><p>Jimmy smiled softly and stroked the golden curls back from the singer's forehead tenderly.<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>"Have you even </span>
  <em>
    <span>seen</span>
  </em>
  <span> the </span>
  <em>
    <span>size</span>
  </em>
  <span> of him? Even Bonzo's little compared to him!"</span><br/>
</p><p>"Yeah, b-but-"<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>"But </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Percy," Jimmy said firmly, pressing a light kiss to Robert's forehead. "Trust me, I'll kick his arse if he calls you that again!"</span><br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Robert's eyes widened. "He'll </span>
  <em>
    <span>flatten</span>
  </em>
  <span> you!"</span><br/>
</p><p>Jimmy grinned. "Won't stop me trying!"<br/>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>*******</b>
  </span><br/>
</p><p>Jonesy and Bonzo were already waiting in the lobby with Peter when Jimmy and Robert arrived downstairs, Jimmy with an arm slung affectionately around the blonde's shoulders. He smiled sweetly at Robert before letting him go and turning to Peter.<br/>
</p><p>"When's soundcheck?"<br/>
</p><p>"Ten minutes ago," G snapped tersely, shooing them on and Jimmy shot Robert a cheeky grin and a wink. It wasn't his fault. Robert was -- ahem -- er, at bursting point (in the trouser department, anyway!) to get back to what they'd been doing before they'd been disturbed by Peter. Little Percy was keen to come back out and play and Robert put on the charm, training those big, sky-blue doe eyes on him to bat those impossibly long eyelashes. Jimmy had given in graciously and Little Percy certainly got his playtime in just before they left.<br/>
</p><p>Jonesy shot Jimmy a knowing look and Robert winked, smiling. Bonzo just looked nonplussed and Jimmy blushed furiously, taking a gulp of his lemonade (he'd just bought some from room service before meeting Peter). Robert's pretty blue eyes filled with mischief as he leaned over his shoulder to sing softly into Jimmy's ear: <br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Squeeze me, squeeze my lemon (🍋), babe, 'till the juice runs down my leg..."</span>
  </em><br/>
</p><p>Jimmy spat out his lemonade almost everywhere and Robert just laughed, bursting into one of his signature trademark squeaky giggles.<br/>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>*******</b>
  </span><br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"I can't believe what people're saying,</span>
  </em><br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You've only got to let your hair hang down..."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Jimmy smiled softly as Robert continued to sing </span>
  <b>
    <em>That's The Way*</em>
  </b>
  <span>, the audience captivated by the gentle, moving acoustic melody of the song. This song was one of his favourites, and one of Percy's too; beautiful, simple, stripped of effects and all the crap that seemed to be layered on all their other songs. Beautiful blue eyes gazed back intensely, gazing right into Jimmy's own jade-green ones before their edges crinkled up with the vocalist's bright, heartwarming smile. Jimmy sure hoped that their child had Robert's smile; that way, he or she'd be charming <em>and</em> simply <em>irresistible</em>, just like their daddy (or mummy?).</span><br/>
</p><p>Robert's hand had strayed to his stomach again, and as he laid his hand tenderly over the bump there he smiled dazzlingly at Jimmy.<br/>
</p><p>The replying smile refused to leave Jimmy's face for the rest of the night.<br/>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>*It's my favourite song, too!</em>
  </b>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>-Title: The Mysterious Illness (4/6)</p><p>-Author: Jimmy (Me. My little brother's name for me.)</p><p>-Rating: PG-13 for cursing and kissing. Bad boys.</p><p>-Disclaimer: If I owned Led Zep, I'd make this shit happen for REAL, not just in my head!</p><p>-Warnings: Language... the usual.</p><p>-Summary: Robert's fourth month is causing him trouble.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Out of all of the fics over on LiveJournal's two Led Zeppelin slash communities, I liked this one the most (despite its elements of cheesiness) so I decided to re-post it over here. It has been a long time, so I most likely cannot contact the [original] author, on top of the fact that their LJ account has long since been deleted and purged. But if you're out there, and don't want this up, then let me know! But since this story is already finished {or complete}, so updates should come regularly. The ratings may vary by chapter.</p><p>Here's the link to this chapter/installment: https://zeppelin-slash.livejournal.com/170632.html</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Ugh, Jimmy, <em> seriously </em>, being pregnant fucking sucks," Robert complained, flopping down on the bed exhaustedly. He was pretty round now, his belly seeming to gain ten pounds and about three inches every day… and while he was still yet just only at the four-month mark! Jonesy, however, was being really sweet about it, always asking after Robert and the 'little passenger' that he was carrying around, to which Robert always irritatedly observed made him sound like he had lice, or something even less pleasant; but Jimmy would just grin and shake his head in amusement, planting a kiss on the joint of Robert's neck and shoulder to shut him up, assuring the bassist that they were both great.</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <strong>*******</strong> </span>
</p><p>Once Robert got to six months, though, Jimmy was going to take him back to Bron-Yr-Aur in Wales, to look after him there. Jimmy couldn't <em> wait </em> to meet his child; at least Robert would stop whining about his backaches, swollen ankles and sore feet once the baby was born… <em> not </em> that he'd ever say that out loud because he just <em> knew </em> that Robert would <em> tear </em> his bollocks off with his bare hands, and Jimmy quite liked his balls just where they were, thanks very much!</p><p>"Aw, it's not all bad. You look kind of cute all flushed and round. You're practically <em> glowing </em> , and it's making me quite <em> horny </em>, to be honest," Jimmy confessed.</p><p>Robert laughed. "I'll let the 'round' comment slide if you come up here and give me a foot-rub."</p><p>Jimmy grinned. "Done; will do. They really ache <em>that</em> much?"</p><p>"Goodnight, <em> yeah </em> . It's <em> torture</em>… I can only <em> imagine </em> what I'll be like at nine bloody months!"</p><p>"Unbearable," Jimmy smirked. Robert thumped him playfully.</p><p>"Foot-rub. <em> Now </em>."</p><p>"Do you kiss your mum with that potty mouth of yours?"</p><p>"No," Robert returned the broad, cheeky smirk, "But I'll kiss <em> you </em> with it if you bloody well get up here!"</p><p>Needless to say, the guitarist was on top of Robert before the blonde could blink, his tongue jammed halfway down the singer's throat and hands wrapped in the mass of gorgeous golden curls. Robert moaned throatily, his hips bumping upwards and Jimmy grinned, pulling away.</p><p>"I love you," he whispered, kissing the tip of Percy's nose. Robert kissed him back tenderly.</p><p>"Right back at you, love."</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <strong>*******</strong> </span>
</p><p>Robert didn't dare go for a scan; what would happen when the doctor realised he was a bloke? He'd be locked up somewhere, with mad scientists and their evil white-coated ilk poking and prodding at him all day. But he wanted to know the sex/gender of the baby, to make sure it was healthy, and to check whether or not he was having fucking twins! Robert cringed at the thought, with Jimmy picking up on this and wrapping his arms tighter around his singer. He snuggled closer, burying his face in the fragrant blonde curls at the back of the blonde's head. Robert smiled and rolled over, hugging Jimmy as close as his ever-expanding stomach would allow him to. Jimmy smiled back gently and pressed a kiss to the corner of Percy's jaw, fingers playing with golden curls, winding them around his fingers.</p><p>Robert melted against the pillows as Jimmy began humming quietly, a sweet traditional song he vaguely recognised but in his dozy, half-dozing state couldn't name. Jimmy's arms were wrapped tightly around Robert as he fell asleep, the soft, sweet voice still singing the <b>Skye Boat Song</b> to him. Jimmy made sure that Robert had been lulled to sleep before he allowed himself to drop off to Dreamland, too.</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <strong>*******</strong> </span>
</p><p>The slumbering lovers were rather rudely awoken by Bonzo the next morning, who burst in hollering, "OI, PAGEY; WAKE UP, YOU DOZY GIT!"</p><p>When Robert stirred groggily instead, the drummer's eyes widened and he ran, shrieking bloody blue murder for Jonesy to wake them up tomorrow morning because he "HAD TO SCOUR THE NASTY IMAGES FROM MY BRAIN!!" Jonesy grinned around the doorjamb as Robert sat up in sleepy confusion, rubbing his powder-blue eyes as Jimmy continued to snore theatrically, a pillow over his head as he laid on his stomach.</p><p>"Peter said to 'Wake up, you lazy cunts', and get down here! 'Here' is the lobby, by the way."</p><p>"Okay," Robert mumbled, giving his bedmate a shove. "Thanks, Jonesy."</p><p>The bassist smiled. "No problem... Bonzo's reaction was well worth it," Jonesy replied, with him and Robert both laughing. "How are you two?"</p><p>Robert knew he wasn't referring to himself and Jimmy.</p><p>"Well, one of us is pregnant and the other is a heavy little beast of burden that causes a lot of pain and medical problems, not to mention making the pregnant one look and feel like a fucking hippo."</p><p>Jonesy laughed. "Good, then, I trust?"</p><p>"Meh," Robert grumbled noncommittally, "that's debatable."</p><p>"Oh, shut up, Robert. You know you love it," came Jimmy's muffled voice from beneath the pillow.</p><p>Robert thumped him, making Jimmy squeak and thump him back on the thigh in return.</p><p>Jonesy sighed and rolled his eyes, deciding to walk away and leaving them to it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sincerest apologies for being SO late with this update, chapter, installment. I got sidetracked, not to mention that I was at another wireless carrier for 20 months, which DID NOT have good reception for/in my area, not to mention the bad/poor customer service. Moreover, Archive Of Our Own had become BLOCKED (after AO3 had had some work done) with that business for some mysterious reason or another, so I had to utilize a VPN, or a Virtual Private Network app every time that I came over here. But the GOOD NEWS is that 6 days ago I had switched over to another company with improved customer service, in addition to (the) MUCH better reception, on TOP of getting a brand-new phone! Furthermore, I now have unfettered access to this site, without the assistance of a 3rd-party VPN from the Google Play Store, which was the cute and adorable app, Robot V.P.N., lol. Without further ado, THANKS for your patience, hits and kudos; this did better than I had anticipated, hoped and/or thought!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>-Title: The Mysterious Illness (⅚)</p><p>-Author: Jimmy (Me. My little brother's name for me.)</p><p>-Rating: G</p><p>-Disclaimer: If I owned Led Zep, I'd make this shit happen for REAL, not just in my head!</p><p>-Warnings: Language... the usual.</p><p>-Summary: A mysterious ailment has struck down everybody's favourite blonde bombshell and mop-top. But what to do?!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Out of all of the fics over on LiveJournal's two Led Zeppelin slash communities, I liked this one the most (despite its elements of cheesiness) so I decided to re-post it over here. It has been a long time, so I most likely cannot contact the [original] author, on top of the fact that their LJ account has long since been deleted and purged. But if you're out there, and don't want this up, then let me know! But since this story is already finished {or complete}, so updates should come regularly. The ratings may vary by chapter.</p><p>Here's the link to this chapter/installment: https://zeppelin-slash.livejournal.com/171212.html</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The time had come for Robert to go back to Wales with Jimmy. Actually, the vocalist's excessive begging and pleading had persuaded the young guitarist to postpone the trip, and Robert was now almost seven months pregnant and looking pretty damn big. Jonesy came with them to the airport to see them off.</p><p>"Right. Percy, promise you'll call."</p><p>"I promise I'll call, Grandma," Robert sighed playfully, rolling his eyes. John-Paul swatted at him affectionately with a laugh and turned to Jimmy.</p><p>"Promise me you'll look after them both, Jimmy," the bass player said solemnly, his cerulean (blue) eyes unreadable. Jimmy felt oddly stung.</p><p>"I will! Why are you looking at me like that?!"</p><p>Jonrsy sighed and shrugged, aware of the delicate territory he was encroaching on. "You aren't exactly the settling-down, responsible type-" he paused and coughed uncomfortably, "-and to be honest, I don't want to see Percy's heart broken."</p><p>Jimmy could've decked him. He scowled angrily, glaring back at the bassist until Robert threw long, bronzed arms around his neck and planted a big, wet kiss flamboyantly on his cheek. Jonesy sighed again, but in relief. Bullet dodged.</p><p>He reached out to poke the large, rounded curve of the blonde's stomach playfully.</p><p>"I want pictures!"</p><p>Robert giggled and promised to send some once the baby was born. Come to think of it, they needed a name. Robert liked Malcolm Henry for a boy and Tallulah Elisabeth for a girl; Jimmy refused point-blank to curse his daughter with such a ridiculous name and favoured Eleanor Antoinette for a girl or Patrick Anthony for a boy.</p><p>Jonesy had to say, he approved of Jimmy's names the most. Robert pouted.</p><p>
  <span>"But </span>
  <em>
    <span>I'm</span>
  </em>
  <span> the one pushing this bloody kid out!" He complained, "So that means that </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> should get to choose their name(s)!"</span>
</p><p>Jonesy adopted the diplomatic approach. "You're right. But I think that a baby boy will be a perfect mix of you two, and since Jimmy's suggestion is both of your middle names, I think that'd be the perfect name for him. But he's right, Perce, I'm sorry… but Tallulah cries out for ridicule."</p><p>"But Elisabeth's a pretty name!"</p><p>"I never said it wasn't; I know that! What about Elisabeth Antoinette instead?"</p><p>The two lovers looked at one another, blue eyes meeting green, and grinned at each other. In unison, they both said, "Perfect!" and then burst into fits of (in Robert's case, cute, squeaky, high-pitched) giggles.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">*******</span>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <span>The plane flight was long and very boring, and Robert was pretty uncomfortable in the small airline seat, trying to fasten the belt over his stomach. All the hostesses, however, cooed and fawned over him, so it wasn't all bad. Jimmy grinned -- there were </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span> bounds to this man's flirtatiousness! -- and settled down to read his in-flight magazine. Robert soon fell asleep, his head lolling onto Jimmy's shoulder, with one large, sun-bronzed hand resting on the guitarist's thigh. Jimmy petted the blonde curls gently and laid his head on top of his singer's bouncy, springy,  flaxen curls, with them tickling his face as he, too, drifted off.</span>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">*******</span>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <span>Back in Wales, the jet lag felt like it was killing Robert, and he was practically dead on his feet, being </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> tired that he walked, talked and looked like a zombie. Jimmy gave the taxi driver directions and three-and-a-half hours later they had arrived at Bron-Yr-Aur. The exorbitant fare aside, the taxi ride had been quite pleasant. It was approaching summer here in Wales, and the flowers were blooming, the countryside blossoming into rainbows of crocuses, bluebells, daffodils, tulips, poppies and the honeysuckle and wall-creepers that dripped off of the cottage's walls.</span>
</p><p>But waking Robert up, however, was far less pleasant.</p><p>Two hours of tears and a three-year-old-style (temper) tantrum later, Jimmy had them both ready for bed with hot mugs of cocoa, and Robert already installed in the giant emperor-sized double king-sized bed between Jimmy's best zillion-thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets. The blonde was already dozing as Jimmy clambered in next to him, giving him (as well as Robert's heavily-pregnant belly) one last sweet, gentle, good-night kiss.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>-Title: The Mysterious Illness (6/6)</p><p>-Author: Jimmy (Me. My little brother's name for me.)</p><p>-Rating: R/NC-17</p><p>-Disclaimer: If I owned Led Zep, I'd make this shit happen for REAL, not just in my head!</p><p>-Warnings: A VERY painful, pitiful, tortured, weak, tormented, agonized, etc. Robert, a graphic birth scene (brace yourself!), language... the usual; and THEN comes the fluffy stuff!</p><p>-Summary: The arrival of the new addition(s)!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Out of all of the fics over on LiveJournal's two Led Zeppelin slash communities, I liked this one the most (despite its elements of cheesiness) so I decided to re-post it over here. It has been a long time, so I most likely cannot contact the [original] author, on top of the fact that their LJ account has long since been deleted and purged. But if you're out there, and don't want this up, then let me know! But since this story is already finished {or complete}, so updates should come regularly. The ratings may vary by chapter.</p><p>Here's the link to this chapter/installment: https://zeppelin-slash.livejournal.com/171471.html</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u"> <b>*~Five Weeks Later~*</b> </span>
</p><p>"James Patrick 'Jimmy' Page, if you <em> ever </em> come near me again with that fucking knob that you possess between your legs, I'll fucking <em> snap it off</em>!" Robert threatened, glaring at Jimmy. He felt <em> so </em> ridiculously fat; swollen to about eight times his normal size, his feet aching, ankles all swollen up, and his back aching and... holy fucking SHIT balls, what <em> WAS </em> that?!</p><p>He suddenly bellowed out in pain, his face pinched in a bitter mask of anguish, buckling against the kitchen's linoleum counter like a ragdoll with a thud. Whoo-<em>wee </em>, that had hurt!</p><p>Jimmy came racing over, his green eyes wide with panic, almost crying himself when he found Robert sobbing against a cabinet, his breathing erratic and harsh. Blue orbs looked up into green ones, being full of pain and sorrow, and the bottom swiftly falling out of his stomach as his water(s) broke. <em> Uh-oh. </em> Robert <em> begged </em> and <em> pleaded </em> with the guitarist to <em> please help </em> him, to make it <em> stop </em> , the contractions all of a sudden ripping through him again like a sword being thrust through various sensitive parts of his body. The baby was <em> coming </em> , and <em> neither </em> one of them had <em> any </em> clue whatsoever about what the in the <em> world </em> to actually <em> do</em>!</p><p>Robert shrieked again and sent such a lethal glare in the older young man's direction that the guitarist cowered, strangely guilty in the face of his lead vocalist's pain and suffering.</p><p>Only <em>one</em> thing to do.</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b>*******</b> </span>
</p><p>"Fucking <em> hell</em>, Jonesy, please h-h-he-<em>help</em>, me! Robert - I - The baby… it'scomingandIdon'tknowwhattodo!!!" Jimmy exclaimed in his panicked state as he risked a glance at his tortured domestic partner.</p><p>"Pagey, <em> listen </em> to me. Calm. Down. Now tell me again; whatever is the matter?"</p><p>"The b-b-baby," Jimmy squeaked out in a small voice.</p><p>"It's <em> coming</em>?" asked Jonesy, who was practically bouncing up and down in excitement on the other end of the phone. Mo was hanging on to his every word, eager to find out all about the pending and imminent baby Page-Plant.</p><p>"Yeah; it's... it's c-c-coming!"</p><p>"OF <em> COURSE </em> -- BLIMEY! -- IT'S FUCKING C-COMING - <em> ARRRRGGHH </em> ! - YOU FUCK-FUCKING <em> IMBECIIIIILE </em> ! - FUCK IT, J-JIMMY - I'LL KILL YOU IF - IF YOU EVER - EVER - C-COME N- <em> NEAR </em> ME - AG- <em> AGAIN </em> !" Robert hollered, glaring <em> daggers </em> at his lover. John-Paul burst out laughing at the blonde's threats, mouthing to Mo that Robert had now moved on to death threats with the delirium of agony of labour. Mo giggled and gestured for the phone. Jonesy handed it to her.</p><p>"Hello, Jimmy," she said sweetly. "Could you put Robert on for me, please?"</p><p>Jimmy had to scream, shout AND yell to be heard over his lover's tortured screams. "I d-don't think that h-he's even up to take - to taking any c-calls right now," the brunette stuttered, the panic rising in his voice.</p><p>"JAMES - SERIOUSLY - I - F-FUCKING - HATE - YOU - A-AND ONCE - THIS - K-KID - IS - B-BORN - I - WILL - C-CUT - YOUR - DICK - A-AND - THEN - THEN - YOUR - F-FUCK-FUCKING - H-H-HEAD - OFF!!!"</p><p>Jimmy promptly passed the receiver over to Robert <em> before </em> scampering away to a safe distance.</p><p>"Heh-hello?"</p><p>Mo's voice was chirpy as she greeted him. "How's labour?"</p><p>"Ex-excrucia- <em> AARRGGHH </em> ! I'M GOING TO FUCKING <em> KILL </em> YOU, JAMES - <em> excruciating </em>!"</p><p>Mo laughed and mouthed the response to her question to her husband, who'd also dissolved into giggles like a thirteen-year-old schoolgirl.</p><p>"Keep breathing. Focus on how much pleasure you'll take in murdering Jimmy afterwards. I felt the same about Jonesy when I was in labour."</p><p>"H-how - <em> AAARRRGGGHHH </em>! - How c-come... he's-he's n-not - d-dead -- yet -- then?"</p><p>"Trust me, when you have the energy for it again, the make-up sex is <em> INCREDIBLE </em>."</p><p>"That's - if - I - live! And - if - I - don't - KILL - him - which - is - very - UHHH - <em>tempting</em>!"</p><p>Mo laughed.</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b>*******</b> </span>
</p><p>Jimmy wasn't the <em> only </em> one bordering on hysterics nine hours later. He had -- with MUCH difficulty -- escorted Robert to the cottage's little bedroom, where Jimmy had gotten him settled down on the queen-size bed. (It was just only a short distance… but with the hard time that Robert had given him, the time and space it took to get there seemed MUCH longer.) Jimmy assisted Robert in getting undressed, which proved to be yet ANOTHER daunting AND grueling task. The first thing Robert did afterwards was to bring his knees up and open his legs up wide in a spread-eagle pose to help facilitate the birthing process.</p><p>The contractions had slowed for a couple of hours, but were currently back full-force, and without an actual <em> midwife </em> to help them, neither Jimmy nor Robert had <em> any </em> idea what to do. Jimmy had tried to give the singer some painkillers -- ibuprofen was the strongest that he would even dare to give him -- but the blonde had slapped his hands away harshly with a hysterical shriek, screaming bloody blue <em>murder</em>, his face contorted in distress as he gripped the bed's covers for <em> dear </em> life.</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b>*******</b> </span>
</p><p>Nine o'clock that night and the profuse sweating, heavy breathing and agonized wailing still hadn't stopped. Thirteen hours of labour and from what Jimmy could tell there was <em> still </em> yet a <em> long </em> way to go before the blonde was fully dilated enough to even commence (the) pushing. Goodness gracious, he wasn't even <em> sure </em> just how much <em> more </em> of this he could stand! His hand was probably broken in about eighty places by now with the way Robert's death-grip was clenched around it, and he was absolutely <em>knackered</em>. The only way he was going to get out of this alive was if somebody (a midwife, <em> please </em> send a midwife!) could get this infant moving out of his Significant Other's body.</p><p>Jimmy beginning to <em> hate </em> this now, even as he could see that Robert's unnatural, abnormal facial expressions had put him in mind of some nonhuman entity right-straight from <em><strong>The Exorcist</strong></em>!</p><p>But by the twentieth hour of labour, Robert was damn near out of his ever-loving, cotton-picking <em> mind </em> . How in the pure hottest <em> hell </em> that women could even <em> go </em> through this <em> multiple </em> times, he had <em> not </em> the <em> slightest </em> idea, whatsoever. He was only dropping <em> one </em> kid and he was already sure that he was gonna die <em> long </em> before this was even ultimately over and done with! (Every process of childbirth was akin to practically going through the Jaws of Death, <em> right?! </em> ) He was absolutely <em> exhausted </em> from all of the labour pains, the crying AND the perspiring, pushing, being <em> all </em> worn-out, strung-out AND wrung-out like a damp dish rag.</p><p>Robert continued on for some time with the panting and sobbing as he was dragged through the <em> single </em> most painful thing that he had <em> ever </em> experienced. He was positive that <em> no </em> human being on Planet Earth could <em> ever </em> even <em> go </em> through <em> this </em> amount of pain AND live to tell about it; it simply <em> couldn't </em> be possible! Jimmy couldn't even get anywhere NEAR him, whether to comfort and console him as he was on his way to give birth... OR to wipe down both his sweaty face AND body.</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b>*******</b> </span>
</p><p>Jonesy and Mo called again the next day (or <em> was </em> it... night?). The bedroom of the Bron-Yr-Aur cottage had indeed bore a striking resemblance to a World War Three battlefield, with the gasps and whimpers of the singer collapsed on the bed only adding to that image. </p><p>Both Jimmy and Robert had developed huge, dark purple shadows under their eyes, although Robert's really weren't all that noticeable because his whole face was practically a reddish-purple as he pushed <em> desperately </em> . He couldn't find the strength nor breath to warn Jimmy that this was definitely <em> it </em> , he could feel this kid beginning to move; he spread his legs even <em> further </em> apart before screaming to the top of his lungs again. The sudden screech rattled the windows, making Jimmy jump in fright as Jonesy audibly winced at the cringe-worthy scene unfolding on the other end of the line.</p><p>Robert's head was thrown back as he used both of his hands to pull his thighs as far back as they would go on each side of his enormous belly as he gave another yell, along with yet another hard heave. The crown of the baby's head had become visible from in-between his thighs, and the guitarist gasped, his eyes widening in delight.</p><p>"Oh my <em> goodness </em>, Robert!" Jimmy shouted in anticipation, hurriedly rushing over to Robert to assist with holding back his legs. "Our baby's almost here!"</p><p>"<em>Wh-whoop-de-de-fucking-d-DOO!!! </em>" Robert tiredly deadpanned sarcastically as he rested back on the pile of pillows in between the intense contractions.</p><p>Jimmy knelt down on the bed between the singer's legs and placed his other hand on Robert's swollen belly as he pushed sharply in order to aid their child's birth, making Robert cry out wildly. Another heave and the entire head was expelled, the shoulders feeling like Jimmy was trying to reverse a tank out of the singer's body. Robert howled, sobbing, as another severe contraction ripped through him, and <em> then </em> their baby was born at last.</p><p>"It's-It's a little boy," Jimmy whimpered, tears shining and brimming in his green eyes. "Robert… I can't believe it; it's <em> our </em> little boy!"</p><p>But the other young man was too busy screaming histhis head off to care. The pain had <em> not </em> stopped, even dulled, or <em> anything</em>; in fact, the agony of the tank reversal had returned, but with a <em> vengeance </em>. Robert whined pitifully, dreading the next-</p><p>"AAAHHH, <em> FUUUHHHCK </em>!"</p><p>"Rob-Robert, I th-think there m-might be t-t-twins..." Jimmy stammered.</p><p>"You - mean - I-I've - g-got - to - d-do - all - that - ag-gain?!" Robert shrieked, horrified. His body was weak, limp and sore, his stomach still taut and… oh <em> GOD </em> that hurt <em> so </em> frickin badly-</p><p>"It's another boy; they're <em> beautiful </em>!" Jimmy gushed, tears of happiness now spilling down his cheeks after helping Robert give birth to their other son. (This one had slipped out shortly after the first one, sparing Robert even MORE torment than what was necessary.) He held up the squalling infants up to Robert's eyes, both tiny and covered in blood, flailing their small fists and flexing their little feet as though practising karate on thin air.</p><p>Jimmy laid them on his lover's stomach and pulled off both his button down shirt and underlying t-shirt, wrapping one baby in his green flannel shirt and covering the other one in the black cotton t-shirt.</p><p>"Patrick Anthony and Malcolm Henry... Callum," Robert breathed out hoarsely as he commenced the nursing of his two sons, with them latching on to him eagerly.</p><p>"Callum?"</p><p>"It's short for Malcolm."</p><p>"I like it!" Jimmy beamed, taking one of his sons into his arms after Robert was done breastfeeding him. Slowly, their little boy's eyes opened and Jimmy gasped again, amazed.</p><p>"Callum has two different-coloured eyes*!" (*Heterochromia, or odd-coloured eyes.)</p><p>Robert was cradling Patrick to his chest while rocking him gently, singing <em><b>The Skye Boat Song</b></em> softly to him and smiling as he watched him eat, tears of joy rolling down his flushed cheeks, as well. "And so does Patrick!"</p><p>"A perfect mix, just as Jonesy said," Jimmy smiled widely, gingerly pressing a kiss to his son's forehead.</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b>*******</b> </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b> Epilogue </b> </span>
</p><p>"Patrick Anthony Page-Plant, come down here, dinner's ready!" Jimmy called out to his son. Callum was already downstairs, all-sat at the table, all innocently AND angelically. His wild, thick, brown mop flopped over his forehead and (mostly) hiding his face underneath a huge cloud of dark chocolate curls as he chatted ten-to-the-dozen to his parents. His twin brother stomped down the stairs, another mop of wildly curly dark brown hair ringlets appearing as he jumped up onto his chair on the other side of Robert. Twin pairs of bi-coloured eyes were fixated upon their father, and the couple smiled broadly AND proudly, taking <em>much</em> pride in their little family... as <em>ALWAYS</em>.</p><p>Perfect AND beautiful… just only pure, unadulterated beauty AND perfection.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Well, I sure hope that you -- to whom it may concern -- enjoyed this story. It isn't perfect, but (if compared to the original version) I had changed some things around in it so that it would flow better and make more sense [in addition to avoiding any plagiarism suits, lol]. I have been meaning to post this here for a while, with the marvelous "Gonna Give You My Love" {by WendyEve24} providing the inspiration to do so. So without further ado... thanks, once again, for the views AND kudos!!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>